


Red Strings

by QuillsAndInk



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bloody, Cannibalism, Destiny, Fate, Horror, M/M, Nightmare, Red Strings of Fate, burgeoning murder husbands, sorta kinda soulmates?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 11:57:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20173867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuillsAndInk/pseuds/QuillsAndInk
Summary: Fate has plans for us all, but Will Graham was hoping for something a little less bloody.





	Red Strings

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to my artist who has been patient and kind. They deserve much better than they got with me. Checkout their art: https://m.imgur.com/4JhCTUp

“You can’t escape this, Will,” Hannibal said. He looked jarringly in his element. Hair mussed from the struggle, shirt and waistcoat drenched in blood, hands wiped clean and jacket draped neatly over his arm. His thin lips were downturned and calm. 

“You just killed someone!” Will was shaking. He clenched his hands into fists to try and stop it. His body vibrated all the more furiously. The pool of blood almost reached his shoes. It was every bit of horror Will had ever seen and more; Hannibal has no ties to his victim. 

The man lay with his throat torn open and his blood congealing into black. It was grisly, and worse was the way Hannibal looked at it. So hungry. Will looked away to try to ensure he didn’t step into Hannibal’s role. He was afraid of how he’d gotten the man’s throat quite so mangled. He tried to ignore the jagged impressions of teeth. 

“He was a pig, Will,” Hannibal said evenly, as though he was merely explaining the label of his favorite wine. His words felt like a fly tossed into the water, trying to lure fish to the wicked hook behind the feathers. Will Graham was no fish to catch. 

“He was a  _ person _ ,” Will snapped back, unsurprised at how unsteady he sounded. God, he needed a drink. 

“How does this make you feel?” Hannibal asked. He sounded genuinely curious. Will realized he’d never been friends with a killer before.

“Disgusted,” Will said because he was supposed to. In truth he didn’t know what to feel. He just couldn’t stop staring at the wave of blood that had kissed and stained his shoe. 

“That’ll change,” Hannibal said. “You’re meant for this Will. You should see me as no other. We can be in the dark together, you and I.”

“You’re so sure,” Will said. He knew to keep Hannibal talking. Talking wasn’t killing for witnessing a murder. Or rather, the end of one. 

“Fate isn’t something to be tested,” Hannibal replied smoothly, eyes dark and glittering, “we will always end up here, Will. It will always be this, you just don’t know it yet.”

“I’m going to tell Jack,” Will threatened. He wouldn’t. Not yet. But Hannibal didn’t need to know that. Hannibal’s expression didn’t change. Perhaps he already knew. 

“Do as you will,” he said calmly. “But I don’t take threats lightly.”

“You just killed a man by tearing his throat out with your teeth,” Will said in a deadpan. “I don’t think you take anything lightly.” Hannibal’s tongue darted out lick up a spot of leftover blood on the corner of his lips. Hannibal swallowed slowly, like a wolf that had just snapped up a last scrap of its kill. Will swallowed convulsively against the bile that rose in his throat.

Some part of Will was absolutely goddamn fascinated.

It was kind of like a nature documentary. Will would never harm an animal or get off on the harming of one, but there was something to watching a wolf catch a caribou. There was still beauty in the wolf, even as it demolished a baby deer thing. This moment was like that, and somehow it made will feel sicker. This wasn’t a normal way to feel. It just wasn’t  _ normal _ . He backed away slowly. Hannibal watched him lazily. His eyes were dark and carefully blank. He blinked slowly, 

“Remember what is said, Will,” Hannibal said. He nodded his goodbye. Will turned his back and left. It took until he reached his car to shake the feeling that Hannibal was going to pounce on him. 

At home in Wolf Trap, Will was a wreck. The dogs could sense it. Winston refuses to leave Will’s side, even for a moment. The shakes just would stop. Will tried to calm himself by making lures, but the way his hands trembled just got in the way and Will, as much as he wanted a distraction, also didn’t want a hook in his hand. The he’d be forced to seek out medical attention and he  _ really  _ couldn’t deal with people anymore today. Not after what he had just seen. 

Hannibal had been so calm. That was what bothered Will the most. Hannibal has been steady as always, an anchor that Will had always been able to moor himself to. He wasn’t sure he could do that anymore, and some part of Will was gutted at the thought. He’d grown to need Hannibal. He didn’t know what to do without him. He would soon find out. Will resolved himself. The next day, he would tell Jack what he had seen. He couldn’t not. He had a duty to uphold to protect lives. Even if the man Hannibal has killed had been a rude pig of a human being, he still didn’t deserve a death like that. Will tried to ignore the parts of himself that wondered with the man did. Will found himself ignoring his inner voice quite a bit today. It was a traitor in his mind and so long as he was awake, he would be better than that. But that night. That was a different story. 

In his dreams Will was entombed in red string. It poured from Hannibal’s right hand and wrapped around Will like a leash and collar, binding him and Hannibal together. Hannibal was adorned with stag horns and he was stunning as a wolf in the woods. Beautiful, elegant, filled with the possibility of a bloody horror. He reached a red-stained hand out to Will and offered him a dark strip of meat from it. Will didn’t hesitate to greedily take the meat with his mouth. It was warm and irony and dimly, Will was aware it was a heart. He was eating something’s heart. Someone’s. He ate it eagerly anyway. He couldn’t stop. He licked the blood from Hannibal’s fingers and warmed under Hannibal’s gentle touch. He wanted this. He loved this. He loved  _ Hannibal _ .

Will woke in a cold sweat at two-thirty in the morning. With mechanical movements, he dressed, got into his car, and drove to Hannibal’s house. He entered the unlocked door unbidden and found Hannibal in his kitchen. The man had been butchered. Hannibal was putting the meat in bags for the creation of meals later. No blood was to be found.

“It’s rude to enter a home uninvited, Will,” Hannibal said mildly. 

“I know.” Will looked down. 

“Have you told Uncle Jack what you saw?” Hannibal asked.

“No,” Will said. “I dreamed about you though. I ate a man’s heart from your fingers.”

“How did the dream make you feel?” Hannibal asked. 

“Happy. Contented. Disgusted, but that was me rationalizing,” Will replied.

“I told you about fate, did I not?” Hannibal asked. His tone was as warm as blood. Will couldn't help it. He strode to where Hannibal was standing, looking ridiculously domesticated in his apron and kissed him. It was a wild kiss, one that Hannibal was clearly prepared for. He was a spectacular kisser. Will shiver against him. He was ready for something quick and dirty. Hannibal stopped him. 

“I don’t suppose I could offer you a midnight snack before we retire?” Hannibal smiled, all warm eyes and sharp, crooked teeth. He smiled like a chimpanzee. It was a promise that Hannibal could and would open Will’s yielding throat. No, that wasn’t right. Hannibal would devour Will’s enemies. There was love in that alpha male grimace. Will could feel it. 

“I am kind of hungry,” Will said. He leaned in for another kiss. The dawn would be red. 


End file.
